Jean

by Robert Burns

Of a’ the airts the wind can blaw
  I dearly like the West,
For there the bonnie lassie lives,
  The lassie I lo’e best:
There wild woods grow, and rivers row,
  And mony a hill between;
But day and night my fancy’s flight
  Is ever wi’ my Jean.

I see her in the dewy flowers,
  I see her sweet and fair:
I hear her in the tunefu’ birds,
  I hear her charm the air:
There’s not a bonnie flower that springs,
  By fountain, shaw, or green;
There’s not a bonnie bird that sings
  But minds me o’ my Jean.

O blaw ye westlin winds, blaw saft
  Amang the leafy trees;
Wi’ balmy gale, frae hill and dale
  Bring hame the laden bees;
And bring the lassie back to me
  That’s aye sae neat and clean;
Ae smile o’ her wad banish care,
  Sae charming is my Jean.

What sighs and vows amang the knowes
  Hae pass’d atween us twa!
How fond to meet, how wae to part
  That night she gaed awa!
The Powers aboon can only ken
  To whom the heart is seen,
That nane can be sae dear to me
  As my sweet lovely Jean!